


An opening, a beginning

by S_Horne



Series: A May Medley [13]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers Mansion, Avengers Tower, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Slash, They all live together in Avengers Tower, Tired Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 20:05:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18818062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_Horne/pseuds/S_Horne
Summary: It wasn’t until he had poured himself a mug of steaming coffee into a frankly hideous cup from Clint and taken a long, much-needed sip that Tony realised he wasn’t alone in the kitchen. He let out a startled cry when he saw the other person, throwing his hand up to clutch at his chest as the other held his mug far away from himself in an effort not to douse his bare feet with coffee.“Good God, Rogers,” Tony said, breathless, when he had recovered a little. “How long have you been there?”“I did say hello when you walked in,” Steve said, a tiny smile playing around his lips.ORNational Apple Pie Day





	An opening, a beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Day Thirteen: _National Apple Pie Day_

Tony padded down the hallway, his toes curling in at the cold. Some distant part of his brain muttered at him for forgetting to put socks on yet again, but he ignored it in favour of getting to the kitchen where the coffee was kept. If he couldn’t sleep, then he might as well keep himself awake with caffeine.

It wasn’t until he had poured himself a mug of steaming coffee into a frankly hideous cup from Clint and taken a long, much-needed sip that Tony realised he wasn’t alone in the kitchen. He let out a startled cry when he saw the other person, throwing his hand up to clutch at his chest as the other held his mug far away from himself in an effort not to douse his bare feet with coffee.

“Good God, Rogers,” Tony said, breathless, when he had recovered a little. “How long have you been there?”

“I did say hello when you walked in,” Steve said, a tiny smile playing around his lips. He was hunched in on himself at the very end of the dining table, his hands curled around a mug that didn’t smell like coffee. On his face was an expression that Tony hated to see, but one that tended to come out when Steve was a little tired or had a lot on his mind. Unfortunately, it was also one that Tony was seeing more and more lately.

The aliens of the world – or not their world, actually, that was kind of the point – weren’t giving them much of a break and as the weather turned colder, Steve’s memories of the ice were flashing up more often. Add in his apparent inability to sleep and it was no wonder that Steve’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“Well, you could have said it a little louder,” Tony retorted, peeling himself off the counter and slinking over to the table. He threw himself down onto one of the chairs and made to tuck his legs up underneath himself. Taking another sip of his drink, Tony was too focused on the feeling of the hot liquid warming him from the inside and far too tired to actually coordinate his legs and he caught his knee on the table leg.

He let out a loud curse at the sharp stab of pain and his arm jerked in reaction, spilling hot coffee all over the table. “Oh, _shit!_ ”

“Oh my, Tony!”

There was suddenly a wet cloth on Tony’s hand, dabbing at his burnt skin in a soothing, circular motion, and Tony looked up in surprise. He blinked once, twice, a daze falling over him from the lack of sleep and the sharp sting of hot coffee.

“God, only you could do this,” Steve muttered under his breath, though there was definitely a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, well,” Tony shrugged and waited until Steve lifted his eyes to lock their gazes, “your fault.”

Steve’s smile only grew and he dropped his gaze again, swiping the cloth one last time before throwing it down on the table. “Of course it was. It always is, isn’t it?”

Tony huffed and lifted his now half-empty mug up to his lips when Steve stepped away again, taking a long sip and sighing at the taste. He wriggled his fingers and was pleased to feel that the skin didn’t feel tight or look too red – all thanks to Steve. Of course.

“Thank you,” he said softly, not expecting or waiting for an answer. Tony shifted a little on the chair to shove his toes under his thighs, eyes shifting over to look at Steve. “So, what’s got you up so late? Too many twitter arguments to win? Too many peas under the mattress?”

“Oh.” Steve winced as he flicked the kettle back on and leant against the counter, ankles crossed. “Not your best.”

Tony rolled his eyes and scrubbed his hand over his face. “I know, I know. I need some sleep. But once I’ve gotten that, you better watch out.”

Steve laughed and cracked his knuckles, rolling his head from side to side. “I almost look forward to it.” He stifled a yawn behind his hand and shuffled hesitantly, awkwardly, on the floor. “Hey, you’re not going back to bed any time soon, are you?”

Tony drained his mug and shook his head, scratching his stomach absentmindedly. “Nope. Don’t fancy staring at my ceiling for another three hours. Why? Got a job for me?”

“I do,” Steve replied, turning to grab a teabag when the kettle flicked off with a low whistle. “A top secret one, at that. It needs one of our best guys on it, I’ll have you know.”

Steve filled his mug to the top, twisting to grab Tony’s from him for a refill as well.

“I’m intrigued.”

Steve smiled again, this one a little warmer and it flickered in his eyes with a little more life. “Well, before Sam left for the weekend, he wanted to hone his baking skills. Bucky thought it would be funny for the two of them to cook up an apple pie in my honour. I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of eating it in front of them, but every time I open the damn fridge it taunts me.”

Tony laughed and reached out his hand to accept his mug back, breathing in the warm steam. “Sounds like my kind of mission. But, the most serious question, ice cream or custard?”

That seemed to stump Steve for a moment and he looked to be deep in thought as he stirred his tea. “Hm. Well, I’m not sure what’s in the freezer ice-cream wise, but I know we have whipped cream. Real stuff as well, not that shit that Clint has.”

“Ugh, I know. That stuff sucks. I’ve tried throwing it out, but he seems to have a standing order for it. I’m pretty sure he has Jarvis wrapped around his finger to help him, the traitor.”

Steve chuckled a little and tapped his spoon on the side of his mug before throwing it in the general direction of the sink. “Alright. Two slices of apple pie with real whipped cream. Sound good?”

Tony took a long sip of his drink, fanning his mouth when it burnt his tongue, and nodded. “And don’t skimp on the slices. I don’t think I ate dinner.”

“Of course you didn't. Well, we have a whole pie in here and I’m not inclined to share it with anyone else.”

“Oh yeah?” Tony looked up and held Steve’s gaze, heart beating wildly in his chest. He was so tired that he almost felt drunk. If what he was about to do next all blew up in his face, then at least he could blame it on that. “What makes me so special then?”

“You’ve got a spark,” Steve said after a beat. “A warmth.”

In an instant, the whole atmosphere changed. There was a weird sort of excitement building, fizzing in the air. He felt like he was floating, as though he was in a dream.

“Oh yeah?”

“Hm. I kind of like it. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you before.”

Tony lifted his mug to his lips again, still holding Steve’s gaze searchingly. “No,” he said finally, for once not in the mood to make a joke. “I don’t expect you have.”

They stayed there for a long moment before Steve dragged his eyes away as he turned and opened the fridge. He fished out the pie and made short work of finding plates and utensils before starting to carve.

“Gotta say,” he commented absentmindedly as he fiddled with getting the soggy slices onto plates, “I don’t know how this is going to taste.”

Tony cleared his throat, not sure whether he was glad for the subject change or not. “Well, I think I have more faith in Sam than I would Bucky.”

Steve snorted. “Obviously.”

They lapsed into silence again, the only sound a quiet murmur of thanks when Steve handed over a loaded plate. Tony dropped his eyes to the slice of admittedly impressive-looking pie, stabbing a soft piece apple on his fork.

“So,” he started, swiping the fruit through the sheer mountain of cream drowning the dessert, “if I were to ask you out for a real piece of pie, – in a restaurant, you know? The full deal and everything, – what would you say?”

Steve swallowed the mouthful he had just taken and looked over to Tony, face blissfully gentle. “I’m pretty sure I’d say ‘yes’.”

 

 

 


End file.
